Page 64 of Maddest Temptation

“What?” Apollo asked innocently. “It was a joke.”

“Refrain from making them,” Romeo said coldly. His brother rolled his eyes, but given he was right, I had the waitress bring him some of the famous cannoli. It was to die for.

“I’ve heard your problem with the Bratva has escalated,” Romeo said as he turned his cufflinks. The man was dressed as if he had been headed to a wedding instead of a meeting. I, too, was dressed in a suit, yet he made me feel underdressed for the occasion.

“I’ve heard you lost part of your territory in Boston,” I threw back. Putting two alphas in a room was not a good idea. Romeo didn’t answer, but his brother’s smile turned feral. Instead of provoking him further, I offered an olive branch. “What matters is how we pay them back. You didn’t come all this way to hear from me what I know about you and vice versa. You came to talk business.”

“We are talking business,” Apollo said. The kid spoke too much when he should stay silent. “You have access to routes in Texas and products that come from Mexico,” Apollo pointed out.

“We want half of that product shipped to us,” Romeo explained. “In exchange, you’ll have half of our products that come from Europe.”

That sounded viable, the cocaine I imported from Mexico was one of the best in the market but there were other drugs, like LSD and Molly which held more value because Romeo retained that market up in the east, and his product was known to be the best, hence the high price.

“I want access to Remy Bousset,” Romeo said as he leaned back on his chair taking his tumbler of scotch with him.

“No,” I said without hesitation. Remy was my contact.

Romeo didn’t seem pleased with my refusal. It seemed the man wasn’t used to hearing that word. I couldn’t blame him; I didn’t like it either.

“I’ll give you one of my contacts in Vegas, I know you have been trying to do business out there.”

Fuck. He rubbed salt against my open wound. I had been trying to do business with the Camorra since before I became Capo of the Outfit. They were a closed-off bunch, even more so than the Cosa Nostra.

I looked at Vitelli, but I had already made up my mind. Remy was one man while Vegas was filled with opportunities to make more money. Yet in this moment, he was acting as my consigliere, and I valued his opinion. My brother offered me a tight nod. He was oddly quiet tonight. Probably anxious about having the Reaper and the Devil in the same room. I felt as comfortable as if I were lounging in my apartment.

“I can only present you to the man, if he decides to do business or not, that’s up to him,” I warned.

“Oh, he will,” Romeo said with entitlement, something only a man with power like he possessed would say.

I liked him. He was the kind of man that did not give a fuck about what others thought of him and was beyond the rumors that circled him as well. What if he killed his father? Maybe the fucker needed to be gone. So what if his hands were bloody to the elbows? Mine were, too. We were all wolves in a world full of sheep, some just loved feasting more than others.

Romeo was that wolf.

With dinner over, talk of business was discussed freely. The Ferraro’s seemed completely open to this alliance and were more willing than I had expected. While he was richer than me by some millions, he was a man of principle, unlike most rich pansy asses I knew.

Romeo was in the middle of explaining to me how he managed to turn his family’s company, Legion Corp, into one of the largest in America when my phone rang. I pretended it wasn’t doing so and shoved it in my pocket. It went to voice mail, but the person insisted and called me back shortly after.

“Life of a Capo,” Romeo said.

“I need to take this,” I said pulling the phone.

Excusing myself I headed toward a more private area of the restaurant. Nero Albiatti—the Reaper—watched me closely while I answered the phone.

“Yes?” There was sobbing on the other side of the line. I pulled the phone away and stared at the number.

“Ca-Cassio.”

“Francesca?” I whispered in surprise.

“So-sorry,” she sobbed.

A cold shiver raced down my back, and I stared at the table where the men were back to having a conversation. My brother stared at me probably realizing something was wrong.

“What happened?” I asked looking away from him.

“I…” she cried. “F-Forget it.” She ended the call.

Pissed off and worried, I stared at the phone and then called her again. “What the fuck is going on?” I snapped once she answered the phone.

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